Can't Let Go
by Chick Feed
Summary: Holding onto his brother, he had never felt so alone, but he was too afraid to let go. If he did, it was the end, and he would have no one. A.N. Happy the Christmas hiatus is over, but becoming very aware that the end is getting closer. I guess that's where this single chapter fic appeared from, my own sadness at having to look towards saying 'goodbye'. A kinda song fic (almost).


**No spoiler alerts  
**Disclaimer : Mr Kripke says 'Mine.'  
**Song fic **(I guess)** Using parts of the Hollie's classic 'He Ain't Heavy' **(He's my brother)

_A.N._ Happy the Christmas hiatus is over, but becoming very aware  
that the end is getting closer. I guess that's where this fic appeared  
from, my own sadness at having to look towards saying 'goodbye'.

**Can't Let Go  
**_Holding onto his brother, he had never felt so alone, but he was too  
__afraid to let go. If he did, it was the end, and he would have no one.  
_-oOo-

There was nowhere to go to any more, nobody to turn to. Every safe haven, whether place or person, was gone, lost along the journey. Dad, mom, Bobby, Jo and Ellen, Charlie, Pastor Jim. Even Crowley would have instantly offered sanctuary, a place for the road to stop, if they hadn't already lost him too.

Donna was still out there with Jodie's girls, though Jodie herself was gone. Killed in the line of duty, she'd died as a cop, not a Hunter. He knew that Donna and the girls would have accepted him, welcomed him even but, he couldn't bring himself to go there. It would always be Jodie's place to him, and Jodie's place without Jodie was no place at all.

Night time was worst. That's when he would wake from some nightmare, craving a place to be, someone to be with, someone who knew him, wouldn't ask anything of him, would understand, would hold him; and would simply let him be. Day after day he'd walked, straining but determined to keep on carrying his load (_The road is long, with many a winding_ _turn), _while he made pointless wishes, desperately asking for something that couldn't be done, not this time.

Fairly regularly a voice in his ear would tell him to '_Man up, get real. Seriously, stop for Chrissake. Put me down, you're bein' a douche; jerk.' _He didn't bother to pay any attention to it _(But I'm strong, strong enough to carry him), _he knew the voice wasn't real at all, that it came from inside his own head. After all, the dead don't talk, do they? _'You're kiddin' me, right?' _

He'd taken to humming to himself on and off, using it to stop himself thinking _(He ain't heavy, he's my brother)_, but, if anyone had been there to ask, he wouldn't be able to recall what he was humming _(His welfare is my concern), _It was the act of making noise that was the diversion, the part that mattered, the thing that drowned out his thoughts, not what the song might be. _(No burden is he to bear), _He knew in his heart that he couldn't just keep walking through woodland and across moorland aimlessly like this. He was going to have to face the end of his wanderings at some point, if only for purely practical reasons, he'd begun to notice a smell. But, for now, it was only faint, he could ignore it, not dwell on it, honestly, it was still only faint, barely noticeable really.

Although he himself felt warm through his exertions, the air around him was icy cold. When he stopped for the night, he figured he would need to light a fire. _'Yeah, that's good, do it bro'. I can keep you warm. Ha, geddit?' _ He began humming louder, really had to drown out that dumb inner voice. _(If I'm laden at all, I'm laden with sadness), _Walk and don't hear. That was his current reason for being, keep walking, don't hear. The words gradually formed themselves into a whispered chant and his pace altered, each foot hitting the ground in time to a word while he continued to follow his unplanned route towards some unknown destination...Walk. Don't. Hear. Walk. Don't. Hear. Walk...

Stumbling on a loose pebble, he cursed. Walking on the edge of exhaustion he paused to wrap his arms tighter around his brother. He had never physically held his brother this long before, and never before had holding onto his brother made him feel so lonely, and alone. _'So put me down, jackass, an' get a damn fire goin'. _Walk. Don't. Hear. Walk. Don't. _(It's a long long road)._

The small, tiny, part of him that still retained some sense of reality knew that the internal voice, the one that had decided to sound just like his brother, was right; but he was too scared to listen. (_From which there is no return), _He recognised but didn't want to accept that things were different this time; that there was no resurrection option available any more, by whatever method. This time it really was the end time, but walking, holding firm onto his brother, could still delay it, hold it off , for a while at least. _(And the load doesn't_ _weigh me down at all_),

_'Goddamnit, quit hummin' will you? Listen to me...Stop. Stop before you collapse. Do what you know you gotta do bro'.'  
_And this time he listened, this time he did stop, and this time he answered himself.  
"I can't!" '_Why not?'  
_"Cos once the fire goes out, there's nobody left...And I'll be completely alone."  
His inner voice stayed silent. _(He ain't heavy),_

A soft sound from behind turned him around.  
"I've been searching for you. You're not going to be alone, ever. I'm here, I'm staying with you., I'll be the one looking out for you, I'll be the one who's got your back."  
Working together, the angel Castiel and Sam Winchester shared the load. They helped one another to, finally, let go; and the flames of the funeral pyre warmed them both. _(He's my brother),_

FIN  
-oOo-  
Chick xxxx


End file.
